Fall and Rise
by doubledippper
Summary: After Jill sacrifices herself to save Chris; she's physically broken. What happens between her throwing herself out of that window and fighting Chris in Africa? And what happened between her and Wesker?
1. Falling

She was falling.

She needed to save Chris; she needed to get Wesker off of him, as far away from her partner as possible. She knew what she was going to do too late; her body had already carried her halfway towards Wesker before her thoughts had time to register.

"No!" she shouted, throwing herself towards the two, determined to separate the two. Wesker held Chris aloft by the throat, his grip slowly tightening, and fist raised. "It's about time we finished this, Chris" he growled, smirking. Then, Jill finally reached him, the quick journey across the room slowed down by fear. She slammed into the side of him, causing his grip on Chris to slacken, and the younger of the two to fall to the ground in agony. Jill hooked her arms around Wesker's waist, pulling him with her into the window. What she didn't expect was it to shatter; though she didn't care. Putting distance between Chris and the enemy was her main goal, and falling into the chasm just furthered the two.

"JILL!"

She heard Chris' cry, but couldn't respond, as she was too busy grappling with her prisoner, and falling. She was falling. She was going to die.

* * *

The darkness perturbed Jill; and she felt _strange_. She felt like she was floating, yet restricted at the same time. Moving her fingers in circular motions felt peculiar, as they felt coated in something that was binding her, and she was terrified to open her eyes. A loud noise, tapping on glass shocked her eyes open, and found herself staring at fear itself. Albert Wesker stood on the other side of what appeared to be a thick pane of glass. Pure terror shot through her, causing her to thrash around in the glass tube, kicking off of the walls. Booted feet and purple, leather-clad legs obliged. Opening her mouth, bubbles escaped, her yells silent.

He smiled, the same smirk which she remembered he used on Chris when he thought he was about to destroy him.

"Jill Valentine, how nice to see you've decided to join us at last." His words echoed in the tube, not allowing her to escape him, not even the dull liquid providing a barrier he couldn't cross. Her wild eyes stared into the dark sunglasses, waiting for him to do something, say something which could cause her to understand how and why she was in the predicament that she was. His smirk intensified, guessing what was going on inside her head.

"You look a little confused, my dear. Well, all will be revealed shortly, as soon as I've gotten you out of cryostasis" He nodded to himself, gesticulating widely with his hands. Turning his back on her, he walked away, into the darkness. Darkness inked around the room, the only light glowing dully from the control panel next to the tube that contained her. Shouldn't she be drowning? Liquid enveloped her, yet she had no mask, no tubes. She floated in what felt like nothing, a cold nothing. She existed in a freezing void, suspended and vulnerable. It frustrated her, and she hit out at the glass again, silently screaming. Her balled fists slammed into the glass, echoing around her, trapped with the loud deafening bang.

* * *

If Jill had fallen asleep, she didn't notice. She opened her eyes, and the inky darkness had pooled around her, making it difficult to even see her hands in front of her face. Bubbles surrounded every movement, and she internally sighed, resigned to her fate. She was probably going to die. Wesker was probably going to murder her, or torture her. She didn't care, she just wanted peace. Her hands fell to her thighs, and traced them, feeling the bumps and curves of her "outfit". She was surprised by the feel of it, not that she was feeling it with her bare finger tips, as they were encased in leather gloves. She guessed that her entire ensemble was made up of similar material, as leather gloves just seemed too odd on their own. Her hands wandered from her knees to her thighs, and around to cupping her butt. The material clung to her lovingly, she noticed, as her hands moved up to hold each breast. Strange. She knew Wesker was into leather, it was obvious in his appearance, but didn't realise he wanted everybody to wear it too. She smiled to herself, and spun slightly, sending bubbles into frenzy. She giggled, muffled by liquid cushions. She spun again, her eyes heavy. She needed proper sleep. She needed a bed, and her friend. She needed Chris. She couldn't allow herself to miss him, but she wanted him. She needed him. She needed him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright; and remove every inch of strange from her skin. Rubbing her face, she moved over to her head and stroked her fingers through her hair, which she caught at her ponytail. Untying it, she shook her head, and her hair fanned around her, and the colour shocked her. It was a pale blonde; even though she was a natural brunette. She started to panic. What else about her had changed?

"You have changed, quite a lot, Valentine" a voice snaked around her, the webbed darkness giving way to two figures, Albert Wesker and a female Jill didn't recognise. She was beautiful, but her face was filled with disdain. Her hair was brown and pulled up into a tight bun, a golden dress draped around her. Wesker stood in his usual black leather get up, once again causing Jill to wonder about her own outfit.

"You've changed for the better." The woman said, her accent exotic and piercing. She turned her back on Jill, and addressed Wesker.

"Don't we have work to do?" He nodded, half paying attention, half apparently mesmerised by Jill. He approached her, fear swallowing Jill, and she floated away from him. He faltered, and some of her fear left her. She was curious, and he lifted a hand and placed it on the glass.

"Do you want me to let you out?" he asked, softly, yet still with an edge. She nodded, transfixed. Her right hand lifted, contemplating meeting his. He smiled and turned away, facing the console. The other woman laughed, pulling Jill into a fog of confusion. What was happening? What had just happened? A soft hum drew her attention, as Wesker was apparently letting her out. Her prison shuddered; and she was surrounded by rushing bubbles. He wasn't letting her out.

She was drowning.


	2. Drowning

She was drowning.

Water rushed around her, tearing her mouth open, and spreading a path of fire wherever it touched. Jill screamed, the liquid cushioning her cries for help. She kicked her legs feebly, her eyes growing heavy. Her hands fell from her throat, her attempts to save herself becoming more and more weak.

"Keep calm Jill" a voice penetrated the fog of panic surrounding her, whispering in her ears, attempting to rouse her. "It's almost over".

She opened her eyes and saw Wesker, hands pressed against the glass, gazing down at her. Then she dropped painfully to the floor, powerless legs slamming to the floor, pulling a cry of agony from her mouth; a gargling disgusting sound, as water spat from her. She gasped for breath, panting in short ragged heaves, attempting to get as much oxygen into her lungs as possible. She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to to fight against a stabbing pain attacking her brain. She was still in the tube; all liquids drained, leaving her choking in the empty cell. Wesker lightly rapped his knuckles against the glass, drawing her attention. He made a shooing motion with his hands, and she retracted from the glass that she was leaning on and he nodded. Pressing a button on the console, the walls of her prison retracted, and she fell forward, slumping at Wesker's feet. Panting, she looked up at him, her eyes pleading, still struggling for breath.

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. He squatted down, eye level with Jill. He took her jaw in his hand, apparently studying her.

"Interesting" he muttered, almost to himself. "Towels, Excella" he growled, standing suddenly, dropping Jill. She stalked into the darkness and returned moments later, carrying a bundle of dark towels, throwing them at him.

"I have work to do, Albert. Once you're done sorting out "Project Valentine", maybe you could...join me?" she purred, fingers tracing his shoulders. He shrugged from her touch.

"Indeed, Excella" She nodded, and once again entered the darkness, her footsteps fading into nothing. Wesker dropped the towels on the floor, a soft impact on hard floor. He crouched again, this time swiftly taking a towel from the pile of three from the floor. He took a corner between thumb and forefinger and draped it around Jill's shivering frame, covering both shoulders and fell to her thighs. Her hair stuck to her head and down her back, and she was cold and aching. "You need rest, my dear. Your muscles are most definitely weakened from being in cryostatis for such an extended period of time. You're going to have to learn to walk all over again." His words shocked her, as did his tone. Over all the time she'd known him, such emotion had never been evoked from him. He probably needed something from her, but she was too tired to even think about it. She just huddled closer to his chest, determined to find warmth and somewhere to sleep. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Whatever" she whispered, intent on breaching the borders of sleep.

A tentative hand stroked her shoulder and moved down to grip her waist, the other arm under her knees, and lifted her in an awkwardly tender motion. Shifting slightly to sit more comfortably in his arms, sighing against the motion.

"I'm taking you to your room, and that's where you can stay until Excella comes for you tomorrow morning, Valentine" he explained as he carried her through the darkness.

"Why's it so dark?" she mumbled into his throat, wondering aloud.

"Conserving energy to detract attention. We don't usually dwell in such darkness, but keeping you in cryostasis for so long was a little bit of a drain" he answered, almost automatically. Jill was surprised that he even answered, though not for long, as sleep swallowed her.

* * *

She was surrounded by soft sheets which traced the contours of her body. Rolling on to her side, she opened her eyes and stroked the white cotton sheets. Goosebumps raced up her bare arms, which upon closer inspection had become paler. It frightened her, thinking about her hair which was spread over her pillow. She circles her finger with a strand of hair and let it unravel, deep in thought. She slowly curled into a ball under the covers, cold and scared. She wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her chin into her chest, and something clicked. She was naked. She last remembered wearing the purple leather body suit; yet now she was naked. She rolled onto her back and sat up, gathering the sheet underneath her armpits and covering her breasts. She felt terrible; her body a step or two behind her thoughts, not fully responding to her signals. She placed a hand to her forehead and fell back onto the soft cushions, trying and failing to properly move her legs.

* * *

A sharp rap at the door brought Jill from the surface of sleep again; and Excella striding into the room and perching on the end of her bed surprised her.

"Good morning, Miss Valentine; are you well?" she asked sweetly, though something about her tone aroused Jill's suspicions. It was almost as if there was something stirring beneath her words, waiting to expose itself at any moment.

"I'm fine" she answered, sharply, her guard instantly up. "A little cold, but that's hardly the least of my worries, is it?" She threw the question at her, wondering if she would falter, but the beautiful woman did not, though her eyes hardened. A sneer played around her mouth.

Excella leaned forwards, and spoke softly. "You're right, of course. Though if you don't do as you're told, you will find yourself to be in, how do you say, hot water? Yes?" Jill wasn't afraid, as she'd fought bigger than Excella; and won.

"Anyway, I was only here to wake you up." Excella continued, shaking Jill from any fantasies she had about destroying her. "You'll have some form of walking aid delivered to you later, as no doubt your ability to walk won't have returned overnight" Excella stood, and strode to the door, turning quickly on her heel to look at Jill, and then exited the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Jill rolled over, and sleep quickly claimed her again.

* * *

A soft noise roused her, pulling her from dreams of Chris and freedom. Somebody had placed a thick comforter around her, and some crutches by the side of her bed, as well as a clock on the bedside stand, the soft, melodic ticking calming her. She rolled onto her side and her heart stopped. Wesker was sitting in a chair that was artfully placed beside her bed. The black leather blended with his outfit, making them almost one solid entity, half human, half chair. Her eyes locked with what she assumed was his, but couldn't tell because of the sunglasses. His elbows were on the armrests of the chair, his fingers met together under his chin, not flinching away when Jill woke up. He didn't seem to care that Jill had caught him spying on her, his expression was almost inquiring, asking a question that she wasn't quite sure of.

"Why are you in here?" she asked slowly, making sure not to trip up on such a simple question. He inclined his head slightly, and removed his hands from under his chin, interlocking his fingers and stretching, something feline and animalistic in his actions. Dangerous, predatory. She was scared. He was bigger than her, and quite capable of snapping her neck in seconds, he could materialise next to her with his superb skill and rip out her heart right in front of her eyes. But instead, he was stretching; almost as if he'd been sitting in that chair, waiting for her to wake.

"I brought you your crutches, as you'll need support to walk again" he answered, proudly pointing at where they sat. "And Excella mentioned that you were cold, so I also brought by the comforter" he added, in a tone that could of been perceived as sheepish, if Jill didn't know better. But she did know better. She was extremely aware of the fact that she was also still nude, and the sheet she had on before had been removed, and if Wesker had replaced the sheet personally; he would have definitely seen her naked. Colour crept into her cheeks, turning her a bright pink. She looked away, hoping that he hadn't guessed what she was thinking, though he seemed completely unaware.

"Tomorrow, you will start learning how to walk again, Valentine" he said, distracting her momentarily from what she considered to be quite shallow thoughts. "I assume it will be Excella who will be helping you, as I have work to complete" he stood, mimicking Excella in his stride to the door, but passing the end of the bed and lightly tracing the end of the blanket as he passed. "Clothes are in the drawer in the night-stand I suggest you get dressed" he muttered, hinting at what Jill had earlier thought about him seeing her naked. When he exited the room, she quickly rolled to the edge of the bed and pulled out a generic grey t-shirt and white cotton panties and threw them on, and sat on the edge of the bed staring at her feet, completely unsure of what to do next.

* * *

_Author's note!_

Apologies for such a short chapter this time, but I really wanted to get something written, but I haven't slept, and I'm completely surprised at my own ability not to mess this up any more. I thought I'd written a lot more than I actually had! I am super sorry! I will be updating this as frequently as possible, as this is something I've wanted to do for a while, and I may as well commit to it. I'm in this for the long haul! All reviews/favourites/followers/even simple views are appreciated, truly. It means a lot, each and every one of you! I heart you guys!


	3. Dreams

She felt slightly suffocated in the small single bed, with Chris lying next to her. He stirred slightly in his sleep and threw his arm over her, sliding around her waist absently, and exhaled into her hair loudly. She relaxed into him, allowing herself to bask in this small, peaceful moment. The "Il Vitro Conspiracy" was over, and they'd escaped the Queen Semiramis, and had destroyed the monster that Jack Norman had become. The incident troubled Jill, the fear which caged her chest when she found out Chris was missing overwhelmed her again. She was worried for him, always. When they were apart she was terrified for him, terrified she'd lose him. His breathing on the back of her neck tickled at the nape of her neck, slowly calming her down.

They weren't usually this close. They rarely slept together; only when they had to. Usually, in between missions, like now, they were forced to stay in cramped hotels. Single beds that were probably dirty, sheets coming up short on their legs, forcing them to share each others space, their heat, which oddly made the situations more comfortable. Chris rolled onto his back, and away from Jill, which annoyed her. She rolled onto her stomach, her chin resting on his chest. It was early morning, the rising sun cutting through the cheap blinds, casting shadows on to his stomach, which she followed with her fingers, repeating the lines over and over, watching Chris. After a while, she closed her eyes, hoping to wander into sleep. Her fingers reached the waistband of his underwear, an inch or so higher than his grey sleeping trousers, which he always packed when going on a mission. His lucky jogging bottoms. She stroked along it, backwards and forwards, eyes still closed.

A hand closed around her wrist, stopping her. Her eyes snapped open, and Chris was gazing down at her. Something changed, the air around them filled with something left unsaid, undone. He tugged at her hand gently, and pulled her towards him, closing the gap between them in seconds. She was straddling him, her crotch dangerously close to his, and a hand either side of his head, one of his still closed around her wrist.

"You are amazing, Jill Valentine" Chris said, his hand creating a hot path as it made its way to the back of her head, pulling her mouth subtly closer to his. She resisted slightly, sensing a chance to tease the man below her.

"Oh Chris, what if this just complicates things out in the field?" she suggested innocently, laughing when his eyes flickered from her mouth to her eyes.

"That won't happen, idiot" he replied, seriously. She nodded, and remained silent, looking deep into Chris' eyes. They had always connected, he had had touched a part of her which nobody ever had, and she doubted ever would again. They had coyly danced around each others feelings, completely unsure whether they were reciprocated or not. But this; this would change everything, and Jill wanted to change so much about the world.

She inched closer, their lips almost touching. Chris' teeth snagged his bottom one, and Jill's eyes hung onto that small motion. She never really got a chance to take in how beautiful he really was, and now here she was, drinking it in.

"You're beautiful, Chris Redfield" she told him, mimicking him. He laughed, a deep sound, rumbling from his chest, sending vibrations through them both. She smiled, and leaned closer still, finally placing her mouth to his. A welcome heat took over, and a dam broke inside of Jill. She needed this, and hadn't realised until now. Her hands found his hair and balled there, holding her to him so that he couldn't escape. Not that he wanted to, his tongue meeting hers with a precise passion. He knew what he wanted, and she was giving it to him. He rolled her over, and switched to straddling her, pinning her lightly against the sheets. Hooking her legs around her back, she pulled him closer. He found the hem of her shirt and pulled it from her, throwing it across the room. He stopped kissing her and bit her neck, growling. He was pulling her into a web of pleasure that she couldn't avoid.

* * *

She woke up.

Breathing hard, Jill was still trapped, held captive wherever it was with Wesker and Excella. She hadn't intentionally wandered into the best night of her life in her dreams, but it had happened anyway. She felt horrible, aching with longing. Missing Chris was like probing a mouth ulcer with her tongue. It was always a dull pain, but when she interacted with it directly, it almost immobilized her. Tears leaked from underneath her closed eyelids. She wished she could retract into her memories, or even better escape. But her body wasn't still one hundred percent responsive and lying in bed all day, resisting her captors was probably not the best idea.

A gentle rap on the door, and it was thrown open as Excella entered. Her stride was powerful, and she walked with obvious purpose. Crossing the room, she threw open the curtains, revealing more of the room. Whenever Jill was awake, the room was shrouded in darkness, but this revealed more. The window took up most of the main wall, split into three. The room was relatively bare, except for her bed, which was an old four poster, and apart from the small drawer next to the bed, it was empty. It looked like the room had been gutted of previous finery, wallpaper falling from the walls. Excella turned, and strolled to the end of her bed.

"Get your crutches, Valentine" she said, her voice alluring music. Jill nodded, struggling to the edge of her bed, stiff from sleep, and legs weak. Excella had approached her, and passed her the crutches, and Jill looked up at her, suspicious. She may have decided that doing what Excella and Wesker said was her best option; she still felt uncomfortable accepting help from her. Hesitating, she took the crutches, and nodded thanks. Placing the bottoms of each crutch on the floor, she pulled herself awkwardly to her feet. She tried to tentatively take a step forward, and her leg made purchase with the rough floor, but wasn't completely stable. She wobbled, and attempted to take another step forward. She teetered, and was surprised at Excella's reaction, as she darted forward, arms open, ready to catch her.

"I'm fine" Jill snapped at her, angry. This was something she needed to do on her own. She was here for a reason, and she knew that she needed to walk to help them. But she didn't want them to feel like she was doing it for them. She was doing it for Chris. She needed to escape, and she needed to find him. He was her partner.

* * *

_Author's note!_

Sorry this is so slashy, but I initially started this to be a slash fic, and it sort of developed; but I wanted some slash in there _somewhere._

_You know what to do guys! Hearts for you!  
_


	4. Animal

Sitting on the edge of the bath, she dangled her legs in the water and circled her feet gently. Placing her head in her hands, she closed her eyes. She was exhausted. A few days had passed since she's started trying to walk again. Her muscles ached, and she hadn't slept properly since she'd woken from the dream about Chris. Subconsciously, she avoided sleep because she didn't want the experience repeated. She'd progressed, her legs were responding better, and she could manage a slow shuffle. When she first achieved it, she was ecstatic. Excella clapped in an almost condescending manner, but Jill ignored her. She hadn't seen Wesker, so she was unsure of his reaction. He was apparently busy with an extensive amount of secret research.

Jill felt more comfortable in water, a side effect of her incarceration, they'd said. He pale skin and long blonde hair was a physical change that she had to get used to, but her love of water was not one she'd actually inherited from her time in the tube. She'd always loved swimming, and sitting on the edge of the archaic bath, an overwhelming urge to swim washed over her. She slipped into the water, and the water molded around her. Surfacing, she sat in the bath, looking around the bare room. Tiles had been torn from the walls and the floors, a large, dirty mirror dominating one wall, leaving the room otherwise desolate. The bath was free standing and double ended, sitting in the centre of the room.

Jill looked around; her hair flattened to her skull, and down her sore back. She could feel welts, contusions following her spine. They stung, and she hissed. Steam enveloped her, the water warm. She leaned over the edge of the bath, and grabbed a white, fluffy towel. Standing, she wrapped the towel around her, and started to dry herself off. Her legs wobbled, still not used to taking her full weight. Her knees gaze, and she fell into the water, yelling, and landing on her butt. Somebody knocked on the door, and the door opened. Jill didn't have enough time to cover herself, but she couldn't be bothered. She was past caring. Eyes closed, she stayed sitting in the tub, towel soaked through, and hair dripping wet.

"Looks like you're in a state of distress, Valentine" a voice stated. A voice that she had almost forgotten.

"What do you want Wesker?" she growled, pissed off. She was not happy that she'd fallen, and she was completely crestfallen that it was Wesker who had rushed to her aid. He laughed; the sound hard to place, between the point of perfection and disgusting. She wanted to listen to the sound forever, but she had no idea why. She opened her eyes, and a gloved hand had been extended towards her. She hesitated, but took it. Pulling her to her feet, Wesker watched her. A blush painted itself over Jill's face. She grew hot under his gaze, though she couldn't be completely sure of where he was looking because of his glasses. It felt like his eyes were lingering on her, and it made her skin crawl.

"Can you get me a towel please?" she asked, trying to keep her voice defiant. He nodded, and picked up a pink towel from the floor, which she was sure he'd brought in. She pulled it from his hands roughly, wrapping the towel around herself. He extended his hand again, and once again she took it, and held her hand steady as she stepped out of the bath. She stood, inches from him, and beads of water made paths down her back and legs.

* * *

"You are quite magnificent, Valentine" he said, his words a gruff whisper, and she was unsure how to respond. He intimidated her, and she didn't know what to do. He offered the crook of his elbow, and she took it, and they walked slowly to her room, her slow shuffling surely frustrating him. She snuck glances at him, nervously. Wesker wasn't looking at her, just facing straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

"Why am I here?" she asked, scared of the answer. He looked down at her, surprised.

"You are to become my most wonderful creation, my dear" he answered. She flinched, and she felt him stiffen.

"I see." She replied, frostily. She was sick of the ambiguity of her situation. She felt like she was stuck in purgatory, between a rock and hard place. If she tried to escape now, her efforts would be futile, yet if she stayed, Wesker had practically confirmed that he was going to do something terrible to her. They finally arrived at her room, and Jill felt uneasy. There was something clearly hanging in the air between the two. Unsure of what to say, she opened the door, and turned to him, waiting.

"Valentine, get dressed, please?" he asked, his tone hard. She nodded, shutting the door in his face, terrified. She went to the draw and pulled on some underwear and some tracksuit bottoms. Rifling through the draw, she found something new. A big, grey hoodie, no zip, and pocket in the front. The smell was intoxicatingly familiar. It was the smell from her dreams, from her fantasies. It smelled of home, and tears and love. It smelled of Chris. Her heart leapt in her chest when she made the connection. How? How did it smell of him?

She inspected the piece of clothing, and it was familiar. It was all rushing back to her. She had instinctively picked out the hoodie, because it reminded her of him. But it was his. He gave it to her after their night together, before they parted, to meet again at the Spencer Estate. How did Wesker get this? Anger consumed her. He had sullied a beautiful part of her life. He had destroyed it, taking her away from Chris, and this was a final mocking blow to her. He was tormenting her, and it hurt. She pulled it on, over her head, and let the smell accumulate around her. A banging at the door caused her to snarl.

"Valentine?" he asked, opening the door. She was sat on the edge of the bed, head down, hair falling to her knees. He approached her, slowly. A low growl escaped her mouth, feral. She lifted her head slowly, eyes fire. He smirked, swelling like spider that'd just caught his prey, arrogance cloaking him. She lashed out, her nails scraping down his face. She snarled again, animalistic and affronted. He caught her wrists between one of his hands and squeezed, and she cried out in agony, wailing like a wounded beast. One hand was fisted in her hair, pulling tight at the roots. Tears formed in her eyes, overflowing and making rivers down her cheeks.

"You snap pretty easily, Valentine, but that's just what I need from you" he growled into her ear, equally as angry as her. "You are nothing, Valentine. Not yet. Not until I take you, and mold you. You will be perfect, and I will make it so. It's in your blood." He pushed her back, removing the hand from her hair, and caught her hips between his own, the pressure sending shots of misery through her body. "You are quite the animal, my dear, and you shall be tamed".

* * *

_Author's Note!_

You guys rock, really! Hearts for yous!


	5. Rooms

Snarling, Jill attempted to pull free, pain shooting through her body where Wesker's body made contact with hers. Her hands balled into fists, nails biting sorely into her palms. He laughed down at her, the conceited sneer playing about his mouth. He let her hips and hands free, and stood up, glaring at her. His anger was subtle, enveloping him. It was almost a physical presence surrounding him, and she didn't know what to do. She wasn't scared, her anger was hard to subdue. Rolling on to her back, she propped herself up on her elbows, and stared coldly at him. He pulled her up, so that she was standing, facing him.

"You are nothing, Valentine. You are a simple experiment. If I do succeed, you shall be mine, and mine only. You will be used to your full potential; and then when you're used up, empty, you will be discarded like the dreg you are" he whispered dangerously, poison drenched his words. Her icy stare didn't falter, and his smile shone brighter. He lifted his hand and gently caressed her cheek, and she flinched. He leaned closer, but she stood her ground, unsure. He caught her chin in his palm, and pulled her closer to him, her lips inches from his. Her heart was stabbing painfully in her chest, her senses screaming at her to pull away, but she was frozen. Fear finally touched her, a cold hand grasping her. She jerked her chin out of his grasp, swaying slightly.

"Don't touch me" she murmured, avoiding his eyes. He sighed, it caressing her face.

"You clearly don't understand" he retorted, a hand grasping her shoulder tightly. "I own you now, and I will do with you what I wish." He pushed her, her knees meeting the ground, agony shooting through her. She looked up at him, unsure as to how he acted so quickly. Her teeth were gritted, fighting back against the insults she wanted to scream at him.

"You're weak." He turned his back on her and paced, his footfalls echoing around the room. He spun on his heel, and stared her down. Jill resisted the urge to look away, shivering. Approaching her, he leaned down and gripped her upper arm tightly, pulling her up again.

"Do you know where you are?" he asked; an unlikeable note of joy hidden in his voice. She shook her head, and hope shot through her. He was going to show her, and it seemed likely that she would know where they were. He had let go of her arm, and offered her his. She took it, her arm hooking through his, and reluctantly leaned on him for support. He led her from the room, and met a corridor of darkness. It perturbed her, yet they moved through it. He led her roughly, and she stumbled as he pulled her. He slowed, and gently guided her up some steps. She tripped, and he held onto her so that she wouldn't fall.

"Thank you" she whispered, the darkness hiding her blush. He ignored her, and they stood at the top of the stairs, and Jill could make out the outline of a door, as light was streaming from behind it. They entered the room, and memories assaulted her. She gasped, tears blurring her vision. She'd been here before.

They stood in the same room that she'd thrown herself from. He had trapped her in the Spencer Estate. She could almost see Wesker and Chris at the window. Fear caged her, and her legs shook. Wesker held her tightly, not allowing her to fall to her knees and sob. She was surrounded by her last memories of Chris; his smell tearing at her senses. Tears ran down her cheeks, the only outward sign she was willing to give. Wesker released her, and she collapsed. The stupid thought of how she fell to the floor because of him floated through her, and she dismissed it, tears falling faster.

Wesker crossed to the window, and looked out. It had been replaced since she'd last been here, and that stabbed at her. She could hear Chris shouting her name inside her head, the single word bouncing around her brain, burning whatever it touched.

"You are nothing, Jill" Wesker said quietly, and darkness took her.

* * *

_Author's note!_

_Short chapter this time guys, sorry!_


	6. Restraint

Waking up was hard. Darkness kept threatening to pull her back towards unconsciousness; and Jill struggled to fight it. Pain wrapped her joints, and attempted to swallow her. She panted in short, ragged gasps, her mouth dry, her lips cracked and stinging. Opening her eyes properly, she tried to pinpoint the pain. Thick brown restraints held her wrists and ankles to what seemed to be a hospital bed, and she was dressed in just shorts and a tank top. Wires were taped to her chest, more tape securing needles to her skin, the back of her hand, the side of her head. Empty tubes spilled over the side of her bed, the wires linked up to a machine monitoring her vital signs.

A gentle beeping lulled her, the sound of her own heartbeat luring her back to sleep, but the door being thrown open startled her. Wesker and Excella entered, emerging from the darkness. The lights were still out and the room was dully lit by the monitor, a small slither of light thrown over them. Excella disappeared out of Jill's line of vision, leaving her with Wesker. He approached her, and sat in an empty chair beside her, which she had failed to notice before. Avoiding his stare, she stared at the ceiling, and waited, sure he was probably here for a reason.

"You're so accepting of your fate, Valentine" he said, amused. "It's strange."

She laughed, finally meeting his tinted gaze. Confidence rolled from her, and his smile was a question, an opening for her to talk.

"I haven't _accepted my fate_. Chris will find us. Chris will help." She responded, hoping that saying it aloud would make it true. It was Wesker's turn to laugh, the sound enveloping her deliciously.

"Chris Redfield? He'll never find you, and if by some miracle he does, he'll be destroyed." His hands gesticulated with his words, emphasizing his threat.

"You couldn't kill him before, and you'll fail again." She retorted turning, and ignoring the restraint on her wrist. She moved her face closer to his, hoping, foolishly, that it would come across as threatening. He mirrored her, his teeth clenched with anger.

"I won't fail, for I won't be the one destroying him, Jill, you will be" he growled, and Excella re-entered the room, causing Wesker to pull away. Jill pulled back, watching Excella. She'd brought in a silver briefcase, and handed it to him. He placed it on his lap, opening it and handing the contents to her. Excella gestured with the syringe, and Wesker rolled up a sleeve, offering his arm to her. Jill's eyes held the question this time, and he smirked as Excella administered a dose from the needle.

"Your present to me, my dear, and for that I thank you." He started, as his partner backed away to retrieve something else from the depths behind the bed. "When you were in cryostasis, we did more than nurse you back to health. We found your blood to be quite…useful. You had antibodies floating around inside you, antibodies which replaced the T-Virus which was dormant in your bloodstream. I found great use for them, as they provided stability for Uroboros, and for me. That serum? It's Progenitor based, which your antibodies stabilised, making it usable. The serum keeps me stable too, so your blood has been extremely helpful. Ironic really, you devote your life to fighting Bio-Terrorism, yet your blood advances it." He finished with a laugh, once again his hands emphasizing his words.

Tears had formed in Jill's eyes. He was right; it was a terrible irony. She had wanted to fight Bio-Terrorism, hence her and Chris' formation of the BSAA, and their missions together. Her fists balled, trying to hold on and not collapse in front of him, as he would surely destroy her.

Excella appeared again, bringing with her another suitcase. Wesker stood, and moved to the end of the bed, running two fingers up one of her legs, causing her to gasp. His fingertips were razor blades coated in electricity, and the sensation immobilised her. How had he done that? Whilst Jill had been distracted, Excella had prepared other syringes, and had attached them to the tubes leading into her, and put some aside.

"Are we ready, Albert?" she asked, her voice silky and alluring. He nodded, finding Jill's gaze, and locking with it.

"Like I said Jill, we're going to destroy you."

Liquid fire rushed through her veins, and she screamed, Wesker and Excella piercing her in new places, and the substance took her over. She thrashed against the restraints, crying tears of agony. Wesker moved from her feet, to her chest, pinning her down with his forearm.

"Be a good girl, Jill, come on" he whispered, his mouth at her ear, attempting to calm her. His words reminded her of something Chris had said before, and she howled, tears falling from her face onto his.

She felt strange. The burning still continued, but she couldn't move. She was paralysed.

"Jill, I need you to stop resisting" Wesker told her, his words soothing. Her body relaxed, and she was shocked. She hadn't told it to do that.

"It was successful, Excella" Wesker stood up straight, smiling openly. "She's ours"

They undid the restraints and removed the needles. She screamed at herself internally, but she couldn't move. He motioned for her to stand, and her legs swung over the side of the bed, supporting her involuntarily. Wesker held her arm, and she looked up at him, smiling. He smiled back at her, smugly.

"Come now, Jill" he pulled her gently to walk with him. She nodded, following, him, as her mind broke away from itself.


	7. Scarab

Jill had withdrawn into herself.

She'd resisted Wesker's control for a few days, and sometimes succeeded. When the drug had worn off initially she ran; screaming, in the opposite direction to her captor. It had only taken twenty minutes, and the drug had metabolised, and she was free. She broke free from a loose grasp he had on her arm as they were walking to her room, and she sprinted from him, floorboards creaking as her feet pounded heavily against them with hot fury. She ran down dark corridors, crossing back on herself in panicked tears. She hadn't thought this through; the fight or flight instinct kicked herself in the butt and got her moving, gears grinding together and leading her to run. She slowed, her legs were jelly as she had been immobile for so long, practically bed ridden for the whole time she was held here.

She leaned against a wall, hidden in behind a corner, her back against the ice wall, cold making its way into her bones. Wesker had found her there, quickly restraining her, his hand at her throat, another gripping both wrists together painfully. She cried out, in vain.

"You won't be able to escape me this easily, Valentine" he hissed, his hot breath too intimate in her ear, his body considerably close to hers. Her joints froze, ice freezing her into place. He pulled her, back into the darkness and she stumbled, legs liquid, spilling after him. Falling into him, he caught her, his hands feeling strange against her skin. Strange, he normally wore some form of glove. Her heartbeat took off, and fear strangled her, restricting her breathing. She let him pull her, and he roughly straightened her, and resumed leading her to her room.

When they hit the light, the hopelessness of the situation almost knocked her to her knees. She was stuck here, indefinitely. Chris was never going to find her, and she was never going to escape. Her feet dragged, and scraped against the floor as she struggled to accommodate the weight of her realisation. She felt defeated. She was no longer Jill Valentine. She was a test subject, and then she was dead. They entered her room, and Excella sprung from the bed, where she had apparently settled to wait for her return.

* * *

"I had hoped we wouldn't have to resort to this, Jill" Wesker started, his voice low, teasing and pulling at her, as he circled her, words thrown at her neck, chest, shoulders. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to make this…feature a permanent addition." He gestured at Excella, who had opened her arms to receive Jill. She snagged her wrist, holding her at arm's length, looking at her wearily as if she was a time bomb, ready to explode. Excella was wary of Jill, and waited for Wesker to make his next move.

Wesker approached her, and Jill was weary. Excella was still holding her wrists behind her back, and released them. He stood in front of her, and she looked up at him, attempting to hold his hidden gaze. He smirked, and his fingers found the edge of her shirt, and she recoiled slightly, hesitating. He pulled her shirt up, exposing her, as Excella moved behind and her and handed him a scarab like device, and she was curious, initially. Until he placed it on her chest, in between her breasts and he traced the device, looking for a button. He pressed it, and its legs pierced her skin, and she screamed, falling to her knees.

"This will keep you docile, my dear. It'll inject the serum when your body is devoid of it. You'll be under my control until I release you, though, I probably never will." He laughed, pulling Jill in.

Yes, this seemed acceptable. Slave to Wesker, forever? It sounded good to her. She'd do whatever he'd say, for however long he wanted.

_No. _

It felt as if her mind had split in two, fracturing her personality. Part of her would follow Wesker to the end of the Earth, and the rest of her wanted to resist. Unfortunately that part of her had no control of her body, and apparently couldn't touch the diseased half of her. She had been infected, and she couldn't control it. She'd stopped paying attention to what her body was doing and saying, and secluded herself inside her own mind.

* * *

A/N

Short one this time! I'm sorry guys, my dad cut my wi-fi, so it was a lot of hassle uploading! I won't let you guys down again, gomenasai!


	8. Obvious

He didn't want to be here, that much was obvious. The road was thin and bumpy, the car rocking violently as he attempted to manouvre his tiny vehicle up the narrow hill. The car rocked, and he swayed with the car, the seatbelt cutting into him. He reached the top, and stopped his car, but didn't get out. He rested his head on the steering wheel, closing his eyes, the cold wheel soothing his tired eyes. He didn't know if he could face getting out of the car. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it as if trying to pull away from his bad thoughts. He dropped his hands and lifted his head, eyes searching his dashboard for his cigarettes, pulling them into his pocket. He took a deep breath, opening the car door and braced himself against the cold air. Pulling his jacket tight around him, and closing the door behind him, he surveyed the area. He had parked a little away from the grave, as he felt wrong pulling right up beside it.

Chris approached it wearily, unsure of what to do. He looked down at the gravestone and touched the top of it lightly. The headstone was small and grey, mounted on a small slab, surrounded by patchy, short grass. He kneeled in front of it, tracing the words.

_"In loving memory of Jill Valentine."_

His fingertips followed every curve, over and over, repeating her name, as if he could permanently imprint the feel of her name on his fingers, to hold some form of her touch with him for a little while longer. Chris knew she wasn't buried there, but he was still hesitant. Unsure of what to do, he fell into a sitting position, and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket, and felt for his lighter. Pulling it out, he turned it over to study the inscription, a present from Jill.

_"Chris Redfield, S.T.A.R.S, B.S.A.A, and best person ever!"_

He laughed, bitterly. She always had a brilliant sense of humour, and at the time he'd loved it. He'd carried it with him always, and flicked the catch to annoy her. He lit up a cigarette, and took a deep drag. He felt like shit, having not slept for three days. He was unshaven, and couldn't remember if he was unwashed. Pulling on the cigarette, he exhaled a cloud of smoke, remembering how he used to tease Jill by blowing a cloud lightly in her face, making her cough and protest.

He felt like shit.

He missed her. Chris had avoided coming out here, but he knew he had to at some point. "Closure", they'd said. He'd get over it, somebody else had said. He was suspended because he almost punched his head in. Nobody understood. He had considered handing in his badge, because he'd failed the one person more important to him than the B.S.A.A.

Finishing the cigarette, he threw it away from him, pulling himself up and heading towards his car. He had a bottle of some form of alcohol in his car, he'd sit for a while and drink. He sat in the back, and found a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the cap hurriedly and taking a swig. Lighting another cigarette, he juggled his alcohol and smoke, blowing smoke rings and drinking.

He didn't want to be here, that much was obvious.

* * *

A/N, super short again, but I've just got my internet back!


End file.
